


Ain't No Sunshine

by flowerfan



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, It's what you do when life gets rough that counts, Love, M/M, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 22:29:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15895419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerfan/pseuds/flowerfan
Summary: Since Steve almost died, Danny’s been as attentive as ever.  But something is missing, and it hurts Steve worse than any gunshot wound.





	Ain't No Sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the end of season six.

Steve leans back against the pillows and pushes the sheet down to his waist, exposing the healing scars from his gunshot wounds and transplant surgery. He knows Danny has a matching scar, though he hasn’t seen it in weeks. Which is sort of the problem.

Not that he’s got a thing with scars, necessarily, or that he wishes he could make sure that Danny was healing okay, which, yeah, there’s a little of that. But mostly it’s that he hasn’t seen much of Danny’s body at all lately, or vice versa.

Although this thing between them was relatively new before the mess that nearly took Steve’s life, they had fallen into a comfortable routine. It honestly hadn’t changed much from before they got together – evenings hanging out in Danny’s living room or on the lanai at Steve’s followed by half-hearted protests at spending the night together. Except their debates about casework and early mornings were resolved with kisses and lazy sex, instead of just more beer.

But things have been decidedly different since Danny landed the plane on the beach, saving Steve’s life by not drowning him and then doing it again by giving up half of an internal organ. Sure, they still spend time together, although a little less so now that Danny has returned to work and Steve is on the bench for a few more weeks. But Danny is as attentive as ever, checking in with Steve multiple times during the day, making sure Steve takes his meds, and coming home as quickly as he can in the evenings.

It would all be fine, except that it’s not. For one, their sex life seems to have disappeared along with the now forbidden beer. Now Steve isn’t actually an animal, and he doesn’t actually need _sex_ per se. But it’s not the lack of sex itself that’s the problem. It’s the distance that lies between them at night, when Danny tucks Steve into bed and then goes out to the couch to read a book, claiming that he doesn’t want to keep Steve awake with his tossing and turning. It’s the hurt that flares up when Steve reaches for Danny and his partner turns away.

It’s the ache in his chest when Steve lies in bed like he’s doing now, freshly showered and shaved, waiting in vain for his best friend to slide under the covers and smile at him, make some stupid remark about the craziness of their day, and curl up against his chest to let sleep overtake him. 

Steve has tried to talk about it with Danny, but the words just won’t come. He thinks Danny feels it too. Danny’s great at powering through, at shouldering the world’s burdens, and he has apparently decided that Steve’s recovery is on the list of things he’s responsible for. He doesn’t even complain – Danny never complains about things that really matter, like caring for Grace and Charlie and going out of his way to help his 5-0 Ohana. Sure, he’ll gripe about the traffic on the way to the doctor’s office, but he’s never once failed to accompany Steve to an appointment. Taking care of the people in his life is a labor of love for Danny, and Steve is grateful for it. But it doesn’t take the place of what’s missing.

Steve hears Danny turn off the shower, and readies himself for the inevitable – Danny shuffling through the bedroom, sleep pants already on, saying a quick good night before excusing himself to do paperwork in the study, or unload the dishwasher. Steve can’t help but let a bitter laugh escape – his kitchen has never been this clean.

“Take your meds?” Danny asks, rubbing a towel over his hair and turning to get a clean t-shirt out of the drawer.

“Yup.”

“Okay, well, Jerry said he was sending me some more information on that weird break-in at the marina, so I’m going to-”

“It can wait, Danny.” Steve sits up in bed and gazes at Danny, trying to keep the pleading tone out of his voice.

“Nah, it’s okay, I’m not sleepy. It’s no big-”

“Danny. I mean it. It can wait.”

Danny must hear something in Steve’s tone, and he turns to really look at him. “Steve, is something wrong?”

Steve resists the urge to back away. It’s time. “You know it is.”

A flicker of fear passes over Danny’s face, and then he’s back to teasing again. “If this is going to be another argument about going surfing this weekend, the doctor has been perfectly clear about that, Steven, and I for one am in total agreement.”

Danny’s got his hand on his hip, but in the silence that follows his attempt to diffuse the moment, he lets it fall.

“Steve?”

Steve swallows hard, and pats the bed next to him. “Come here.”

Danny looks like he’s going to protest, but thinks better of it and sits sideways on the bed, his feet still on the floor. “What’s going on?”

“We need to fix this.”

Danny looks around the room. “Fix what?”

Steve huffs. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

They’re so far removed from okay that Danny doesn’t even attempt to make a joke about how everything is _harder_ in bed, or any of the ridiculous things he might have said if this evening was going where it would have, before…

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Steve,” Danny says quietly.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

Danny stands up and waves his hands, getting upset. “Then why don’t you come out and say it?” he demands. “Stop playing games with me, I can’t take any more of this. I’m trying as hard as I can and if it isn’t enough…” he trails off, and Steve catches a glimpse of tears shining in his eyes.

He’s out of bed and standing in front of Danny in an instant. “Hey, that’s not what I meant at all, not at all.” Steve takes Danny gently by the shoulders, relief flooding him when Danny doesn’t pull away. But Danny still won’t meet his eyes.

“Danny, do you think I’m breaking up with you?”

Danny shakes his head, but a tear escapes and slides its way down his cheek. Steve swipes it with a finger, and turns Danny’s face to his.

“I’m not, okay? That’s the farthest thing from my mind. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Danny chokes out, scrubbing a hand over his face. He takes a deep breath, and steps back, out of Steve’s hold. “Then what is it? What’s wrong?”

Steve looks down at his hands, now empty, and motions at the space Danny has just put between them. “This.”

Danny’s face closes off. He doesn’t pretend to misunderstand. “You’re still healing.”

“Hardly.”

“Hardly, he says. Haven’t you been listening to the doctors? It will take months before you’re one hundred percent. Months.” Danny paces as he speaks, hands waving. “I’m not going to risk hurting you, Steven. I’m not. I won’t.”

“But you are.”

Danny’s head snaps up, his eyes flashing. “What?”

“You don’t think this is hurting us?” Steve steps closer to Danny and holds out his hand. “I miss you. I miss us. And I’m willing to bet you miss it too. We can’t keep doing this.”

Danny presses a hand over his mouth, face crumbling. “Steve…”

“Come here,” Steve says, and wraps Danny in a hug. Danny relents, burying his face against Steve’s shoulder. Steve keeps his hold light, one hand on the back of Danny’s head, the other softly circling his back. “Will you let me try something, Danny? Will you trust me?”

Danny lifts his head, his blue eyes wide. “Always.”

“All right.”

Steve leads Danny back to bed, and Steve arranges them so that they’re stretched out on their sides. They’re facing each other, not quite touching, which is fine with Steve for what he has in mind. Cuddling will come later, hopefully, if all goes well.

“I want you to know there’s nothing to worry about. That I’m okay.”

Danny bites his lip. “I don’t know how to stop worrying. In the plane… you told me you were dying. You actually said it. And you were shot…”

“It’s not the first time, not for either of us.” Regrettably, this is true. They’ve both been shot far too many times.

“I’m aware,” Danny says, but with no heat in it. “Enough so that I could tell it wasn’t like the other times. This was bad, Steve.”

Steve takes Danny’s hand from where it’s resting on the bed between them, and tangles their fingers together. “I want you to try something.”

Danny gives him a questioning look. “Okay.”

Steve takes Danny’s hand and places it on his chest, right on the long scar from the transplant. “Check it out. I’m okay.”

Danny is trying not to pull his hand back, Steve can tell. 

“You’re not going to hurt me, Danny. I promise.”

Danny relaxes his hand, letting it lie carefully over Steve’s skin. Steve puts his hand on top of Danny’s and presses down, but this is too much for Danny and he whips his hand away.

“What are you doing? Are you crazy? Have you entirely lost your mind?”

Steve gives him a moment, and then takes his hand again and puts it right back. “I’m all healed there, Danny. There’s no pain when you do that. Nothing’s going to break, or bleed. Not there, and not on the others.” Steve moves his hand to the messy gunshot wounds. “You were there for all the doctor’s visits, you know this.”

Danny closes his eyes, letting out a long breath. “I should know it. But it’s hard to forget what I saw. There was so much blood…”

Steve knows he passed out in the plane, knows Danny thought he might actually be dead, that they couldn’t find his pulse. Knows that Danny didn’t give up, risking his life to land the plane on the beach, hoping he could save Steve. And he did. Steve isn’t going to give up, either.

“Try, Danny.” Steve runs his hand up Danny’s arm, slides his fingers under the sleeve of his t-shirt, and then back down again. Danny shivers, the gentle touch somehow more intimate than any they’ve shared in weeks. “Please.”

Danny nods, opening his eyes and meeting Steve’s. “Okay.”

Danny starts moving his hand, looking down at Steve’s body as he does. He circles the scars, then touches them, checking up with glances at Steve’s face as if to make sure he really isn’t hurting him. Then, to Steve’s surprise, Danny leans over and kisses each one, gently tracing the puckered gunshot wounds on his side and shoulder, and drawing his lips softly over the long surgical incision from the transplant. Finally Danny rests his cheek on Steve’s stomach, his hand still tracing the scars.

“I was so scared, Steve,” Danny says softly. “I’m still so scared.”

“I know, Danny. I know.” Steve pulls Danny up his body and pushes his hair out of his face. “I’m sorry.”

Their eyes meet, and Steve rejoices as Danny leans in for a kiss. It’s gentle at first, just a brush of the lips, and then Danny squirms tighter against him and open his mouth with a low moan.

When they pull apart, Danny’s smile has returned, and it’s like the sun finally coming out from behind the clouds. They both laugh, relief and happiness and love all there together, more emotion that Steve ever thought he could stand.

“I was an idiot,” Danny says, humming in pleasure as Steve slides his hips against Danny’s, their legs weaving around each other until the pressure is just right. “Why’d you let me be such an idiot,” he mumbles, breath coming faster as Steve mouths along the sensitive skin on his neck.

“You’re my idiot,” Steve replies, pulling back just long enough to divest Danny of his t-shirt. With a quick look at each other they tug off their sleep pants and boxers. Danny gazes appreciatively at Steve, running his hand down his hip and pressing their bodies back together, and Steve grins right back at him, taking a moment to nuzzle into the fuzzy hair on Danny’s chest.

“I take it you’re all healed up, too?” Steve asks, sliding a hand between them to touch Danny’s most recent scar, almost a twin to his own.

“We can play doctor later, babe,” Danny pants out, his own hand snaking down to stroke Steve, who is hard and leaking. “Focus, Steven.” Steve obliges, finding Danny’s cock and lining it up with his own, both their hands stroking and tugging and generally feeling awesome. 

“You make me feel so good, Danny,” Steve praises. “It’s so good. I…” Steve loses his train of thought as Danny does something with his fingers at the tip, causing a flare of pleasure. Steve rides the sensations, treasuring the sounds Danny makes, his hot breath against his skin, the feel of Danny’s hands everywhere.

“Fuck, this isn’t going to last long, is it?” Danny says, a laugh in his voice as Steve grabs his ass with his other hand and squeezes. Steve doesn’t even have the breath to respond, his reply purely physical as his release hits him. Danny follows seconds after, and Steve just hangs on, overwhelmed and so, so happy.

Steve doesn’t know how much time passes before they recover enough to untangle themselves from the damp sheets and wiggle away from the wet spots, but eventually they are sliding towards sleep, Danny curled up against Steve’s good side, his hand roaming over Steve’s chest. He slows over a scar, one fingertip prodding it gently.

“You’re really okay?” Danny whispers, barely audible. 

Steve’s heart skips a beat, and he answers quickly, his voice in his throat. “I’m really okay.”

“Let’s never do that again,” Danny says. 

Steve isn’t sure if he means getting shot at (which is pretty likely to happen again, given their track record) or keeping away from each other out of fear. He’s fairly certain it’s the latter.

“As long as we end up here, it’ll be alright.” He means it. Shit’s going to happen. It’s life, it’s not going to be smooth. It’s what you do when it gets rough that counts.

Danny pushes himself up on an elbow and blinks at Steve. “You can be very wise, sometimes, you know that?”

“I have my moments.”

Danny snuggles back down against Steve, and Steve wraps an arm around him, holding him close. They’re going to be okay.

“We are, Steven,” Danny mumbles, “we are.” Apparently Steve’s inner ramblings weren’t quite as internal as he believed. “Now go to sleep.”

“Love you, Danno,” Steve can’t resist one final kiss to the top of Danny’s head. And the last word. Because frankly, he did a good thing tonight.

“I’ll give you a gold star in the morning. Or a blow job. Just stop mumbling and let me get some rest.”

Steve laughs, and Danny joins in, and somewhere in the midst of it all they decide they aren’t that sleepy after all, and blow jobs ensue. Because why put off until tomorrow, etc. etc.?

It’s hours later that they are finally fading into sleep, even the joy and relief at their reunion unable to keep them awake any longer. Steve’s doze is interrupted by one last, nervous question from Danny.

“What would you have done if it didn’t work? What you did tonight, if it didn’t fix us?”

Steve isn’t really fully awake, but he knows the answer without having to think about it. “I’d keep trying.”

“Yeah? Promise?” Danny sounds worried, and Steve can’t have it, shifting to plant a kiss full on Danny’s lips.

“Promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Bill Wither's "Ain't No Sunshine."
> 
> Please let me know if you enjoyed this!


End file.
